


Trying

by autisticblueteam



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: (spoilers up until 16x13), Autistic Character, Autistic Character(s), Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Season 16 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 13:57:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15244875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autisticblueteam/pseuds/autisticblueteam
Summary: Carolina doesn’t know what to do. Caboose reminds her that all she has to do is try her best and that, no matter what, she belongs where she is.





	Trying

**Author's Note:**

> After Episode 13 of the new season and Caboose’s little line at the end, I got some dialogue stuck in my head that evolved into this fic. As always, both my Caboose and Carolina are written as autistic.

Carolina made it half-way down the hall before nerves locked every muscle into place and stopped her dead in her tracks.

There was silence up ahead and the chatter of the Reds and Blues behind her. Both sides surrounded her like an unpleasant, stifling pressure. Walking in either direction suddenly felt like an impossibility.

So she didn’t. She just stood there, in the centre of the hallway, stiff and hesitant.

Her lip was bleeding again, metallic taste on her tongue. Her teeth continued to worry at it, only making it worse.

It wasn’t long before salt mixed in with the iron. Wet streaks stained her cheeks, the tears gravitating into the dip of her lips. Her breath in was shaky, her breath out strained. If she hadn’t been wearing gloves, her nails would have carved crescents into her palms.

What was she going to do?

Volume levels spiked behind her and she flinched. An animated discussion she felt pulled towards at the same time as it rooted her to the spot. No one had come after her. She’d said she was going to try talk to Wash, they were respecting their privacy, but…

Another shaky breath in and she squared her shoulders, stood tall and tried to compose herself.

But no matter what she did, she couldn’t make herself move.

She didn’t know what to do.

She didn’t know what to _do._

The tears were welling up again and she couldn’t stop them. Her lips were wet with tears and blood and her tongue was marred with the taste of both and she could feel the _visceral_ _discomfort_ in her chest as the world started to feel distant and this had been building for a _year,_ a _year_ and she’d _never_ felt such a desperate need to be back on the MOI where she could clamber into maintenance tunnels and hide away until this _passed_ and— and—

Tearing off her helmet she swiped at her face with the back of her wrist. She couldn’t do this, not now. She couldn’t meltdown in the hallway of some— some alien AI’s temple or whatever this place was. She couldn’t let herself break with the guys only a room away.

Even if she so desperately needed to.

“Oh! You are still in the hallway!”

Carolina spun on her heel, hand reflexively going for the gun on her back—

Only to be greeted by the sight of bright cobalt armour and a friendly face with curls that hadn’t quite stopped bouncing when he stopped moving.

Caboose.

“Caboose, I— I didn’t hear you coming,” she said, hyperaware of the tear trails on her cheeks and the blood on her lip. Wiping at them self-consciously, she swallowed a lump in her throat and felt it join the tightness in her chest.

“Yes, I am very sneaky. Even when I am not sneaking,” Caboose said with a sincere nod. Then, his head tilting an almost comical distance to the side, “Why, um, why are you in the hallway?”

Carolina flinched, but… if there was one thing she truly appreciated about Caboose, it was how straight-forward and sincere he always was. Even in situations where any other person would have allowed the awkwardness in the air to stop them, where maybe the best thing to do would have been to talk.

“I… don’t know, Caboose,” she said, squeezing her thumb inside of her fist. “I don’t think I can go any further.”

“Oh. Is your leg hurting again?” he said, voice taking on a deeper, more grave tone. “Do you need me to carry you?”

“No, no, it’s— my leg is fine, Caboose.” Taking a deep breath in, she glanced towards the ends of the hallway. No sign of anyone else. The voices were as loud as ever. “I don’t know that Wash wants to see me right now. That’s all.”

“Oh, come— come on Carolina! Washington is, like, your best friend and best friends _always_ want to see each other! Like me and Church!” he said, hands moving animatedly with his words. “Remember how— how when you and Church were together all the time and he would tell you to tell me that he wanted to see me but he was very busy?”

“I— yes, Caboose, I remember.” Epsilon was another wound that was still far too open to heal, but she knew that it was the same for Caboose. Getting to say goodbye was closure, but it wasn’t a fix-all. He was still gone. “This is… more complicated.”

Caboose scoffed at the suggestion. “Friendship is not complicated, Carolina. Sometimes, ah, sometimes your friend is sad and that isn’t good but when they are sad! You go and talk to them! And you can make everything better! Even when they are scared because they have a fuzzy brain now or when they are a pretty lady who is pretty scary but always saves you from the bad guys.”

A counterpoint danced on the tip of her tongue, only to fall still when she finished processing what he said. The tightness wrapped around her lungs uncoiling ever so slightly, she stared at Caboose for a long, silent moment.

“…is that why you came, Caboose?” she said, when the words came unstuck from the back of her throat. “To… make me feel better?”

“Yes,” he said with another sincere nod, bouncing once on the balls of his feet. “You and Wash. See, um, I am very used to having a fuzzy brain and! It’s scary to be told that your brain was not breathing for a long time! So, yes, um, you said you were going to Wash and so I thought! Perfect! I can do, um, two nerds with one—”

“Birds, Caboose.”

“—bird!” Not quite what she was getting at, but it made a smile tug at the corner of her lips. Even if it was for only a second. “But you are in the hallway and not with Washington so yes. That is why.”

Caboose had come after them to make them feel better.

To make _her_ feel better.

“Thank— Thank you,” she said, the words falling off her tongue like a ten tonne weight. “Thank you.”

When he opened his arms, she remembered a time two years ago now. When Epsilon’s messages had been shared and the weight of what had happened hit. When she had retreated to the depths of the crashed ship, where she could meltdown and grieve in piece. Where she had found Caboose in much the same state as she was and where she joined him, accepted his open arms and sat with him and mourned the loss of someone dear to both of them.

So she nodded. Caboose hugged her and for a moment, the bone-crushing, oddly comforting pressure made everything feel a little better.

“I think that— that Washington is just very scared,” Caboose said, voice now slightly muffled as he held her tight. Her arms wrapped up around his back, her head dropped against his shoulder. “I was very scared when they told me that my brain had not been breathing, too. They told me that I had to go somewhere else and I did not want to do that and I got very scared.”

She didn’t know exactly what had happened to Caboose. Tucker had told her about what had happened with the AI and the damage that had caused, but there was something else. Something from before Blood Gulch, from before the Project got their hands on him.

But it sounded like, out of everyone, he understood more about what Wash was going through than anyone.

“I yelled a lot.” He didn’t sound proud of it. “Because I was very scared. And I didn’t want to leave.”

“You’re… saying that Wash is lashing out because he’s scared,” Carolina said. It was always good to emphasise that you’d understood Caboose’s point. Sometimes he didn’t know, so sometimes he kept explaining until he was sure.

Words were always difficult.

“Yes,” he said. “I think that— that Washington just needs a little help, now. Sometimes— sometimes I need help and! I am still here! I still do good! And— and if Washington is alone then he will not have that help and that… that would be bad, I think.”

Carolina didn’t know what to say to that. He wasn’t wrong, Wash needed the support of the team now more than ever and god only knows if they’d be able to get him home _anyway_ , but if he got hurt…

Would she ever be able to forgive herself?

“I just— I didn’t want to hurt him,” she said, finally. Caboose waited patiently for her response, never once loosening his tight grip. “I didn’t know how I was supposed to help him deal with this. I _don’t_ know how. But I _want_ to help him.”

“You are a good friend, Carolina. I think— I think you have tried your very best. And that is what matters,” Caboose said. Carolina’s heart started pounding and despite her best efforts, tears welled in her eyes. “I think that— that maybe, because you are such a good friend, you haven’t let anyone help you. And that has made you very sad too.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

A year. A _year_ of watching Wash struggle. A year of watching Wash make progress, only for a major lapse to set him back again. A year of watching the one person who truly understood what their lives had been like for over a decade _lose_ chunks of memory. A year of never knowing if asking if he needed help would get a yes or get her snapped at.

A year of spending so much time worrying about Wash both because she cared and because it was easier than confronting the trauma of that _goddamned room._

Carolina choked on a sob.

Tears started spilling down her cheeks as Caboose wrapped his arms as tight around her as he could without hurting her. Her whole body shook with sobs as months of built up distress rose to the surface all at once, no longer held back. Everything that she’d been bottling up for the past year.

Through it all, Caboose held her close. He didn’t say anything, but he was warm and stable and his fingers laced into her hair. With her face buried in his shoulder her sobs were muffled and distant. Her tears pooled in the texture of his kevlar undersuit. Her fingers curled around his armour, holding on tight to ground herself.

He was there for her.

He’d come to make her _feel better_.

She didn’t know how much time passed before the tears started to dry up and she lifted her head away from his shoulder. Her head pounded in that all too familiar way, the migraine that always followed a meltdown. Her eyes were strained and red. Her voice took a moment to catch up with her.

“Th-Thank you Caboose,” she said, coughing when her voice came out rough and strained. “For— for coming after me.”

“That is what friends do for each other,” Caboose said. Squeezing her tight one more time, he slowly let go and stood back. Carolina smiled, despite it all, but before she could respond there was a yell from the end of the hallway.

“Hey! What’re you standing in the hall for, Caboose? I thought you were going to check on Wash and Carolina!” Tucker called, hands cupped around his mouth. Caboose turned around so that he was no longer blocking Carolina from sight and Tucker’s hands dropped. “ _Oh._ Okay, close enough I guess. Hey, Lina! You okay?”

Behind him she could see a couple of other concerned faces. The previous discussions had quieted all together.

For a moment, she considered lying and saying she was fine. Until she saw Caboose’s reassuring smile and looked back at the others to see them gathering in the doorway.

This was her family. No matter what else happened, these people were her family.

“Better than I was,” she said, her voice still strained. Tear stained cheeks, scabbing lip and bags under her eyes all visible. She was a mess and she looked it, but she didn’t see judgement on their faces. Only concern. “If someone wants to fill me in on whatever you were just discussing, maybe… maybe one of you could go and check on Wash?”

“I’ll go,” Tucker said, without hesitation. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments before Carolina had to look away and she saw something there, something he no doubt saw reflected in her.

She wasn’t the only one harbouring guilt.

Tucker went to Wash and she joined the others. With her helmet tucked against her hip she listened to their discussions on what they all thought, what they were going to do.

Caboose never left her side. A constant, reassuring presence. An affirmation that they cared.

That no matter what, she was part of the team.

Her and Wash’s friendship had been through tougher times than this. Caboose’s idea of how friendships worked may have been a little simplified, but that didn’t devalue his point.

They could work through this. Together.

Somehow.


End file.
